


As Special As You

by BeneaththeHalo



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gwaine Fest, M/M, Magic Gwaine, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeneaththeHalo/pseuds/BeneaththeHalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Separated from his men in the forest, and surrounded by bandits, Gwaine has no way out. Until he feels something inside himself, and somehow, the bandits are dead. Now he's scared, and confused, and has no idea what's just happened.</p><p>It's going to take Merlin to help Gwaine see just how special he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Special As You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gwaine Fest 2014 over on Tumblr. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Set somewhere in between season 4 and season 5.

After two long hours being on patrol, every section of the forest looked exactly the same to Gwaine. He wasn’t lost, luckily- he’d been on patrol through this forest so many times, he knew it like the back of his own hand. He could probably walk it with his eyes closed and then make it back to Camelot without getting lost once. Knowing this forest so well made him better at his job, would mean he would notice even the slightest thing wrong, but he was _bored_. Gwaine had patrolled this forest so many times, the majority of them with nothing happening, that it was getting repetitive. He wanted to be anywhere else but here.

Despite his boredom, Gwaine was the first to react when he heard something in the trees. He immediately drew his sword, but his company of knights were not as fast as him, not as aware of their surroundings, and were not ready when the bandits were upon them. He lost sight of his men in the melee, with all his focus on the bandits who were advancing upon him. They all fell, every last one, no match for Gwaine’s proficiency with a sword. When Gwaine looked up, all his opponents slain, it was to discover that his men were nowhere to be found.

Gwaine nearly called out for the other knights, but no sooner had he opened his mouth did he closed it again. There could very well be more bandits lurking in the forest, which would explain where the others had gone. His sword still drawn, and his eyes searching for any sign of danger, Gwaine advanced through the trees.

Aside from broken branches and footprints in the dirt, there were no signs of Gwaine’s men or the bandits. Gwaine didn’t know how he’d gotten separated from everybody else as much as he had, but he didn’t like it. If the bandits found him before he found his men, Gwaine didn’t think he’d make it out of there alive.

Almost as if he’d cursed himself, Gwaine heard shouts from all around him and bandits burst from the forest around him, shouting and waving their swords. They ran right at him, surrounding him, and Gwaine knew straight away he was in trouble. He fought anyway, meeting metal with metal, and managing to take out a number of bandits. But there were too many of them for one man, no matter how proficient with a sword they were, and soon Gwaine was cornered.

Still, Gwaine looked his attackers in the eye, holding his sword in front of him as if to try and warn the bandits off. There was no way he was going down without a fight.

“You’re a brave one, _knight_ ,” one of the bandits taunted, spitting out the last word as if it were something disgusting. “But there’s one of you, and oh so many of us. There is no way you can get out of here alive.”

“Only ‘oh so many’?” said Gwaine, smirking. “What, you’re too dumb to even count how many of you there are?”

A couple of the bandits stepped forward, faces contorted in anger and weapons raised. Gwaine just grinned at them, trying not to show any fear. He _was_ scared, though. He knew that bandy was right- that there was no way that Gwaine was getting out of there alive.

Gwaine was determined to at least _try_ , though. He was a knight of Camelot, and knights never gave up until they drew their last breath. Gwaine had never backed away from a fight, no matter how great the odds were against him or the side he was on. That was how he’d met and befriended Merlin and Arthur in the first place. Fighting and winning a battle against the odds, and doing something that nobody else would even dare to do, was a very typical thing for him.

This time, something was different. Gwaine could literally _feel_ his determination, like a tingling right underneath his skin, yearning to break free. It was something he had never felt before. It wasn’t a painful feeling, either; it was just _there_.

Somehow, that feeling made Gwaine stand taller, eyes focused on his enemies with ferocity, sword raised and ready to strike. “It looks like the knight is going to go down fighting, boys!” the same bandit cried. He must have been their leader. “What do you say we give him that fight?”

The bandits all cried their assent and prepared to strike, but Gwaine couldn’t hear them. That feeling right beneath his skin was growing stronger and stronger, with a rushing sound filling his ears, and Gwaine knew he couldn’t hold it in much longer. Whatever this feeling was, wherever it had come from, he needed to use it. It may be his only hope.

 _Help me_ , Gwaine thought, his inner voice pleading, trying to _will_ something to happen. _Help me!_

It was like pure energy was exploding out of Gwaine, when it happened. That feeling right inside of him grew to be too much, pressing right against his skin until it became too much. There was an almighty _crack_ from right above, and Gwaine’s eyes were drawn towards the noise, just in time to see the branch fall. He jumped backwards, but the branch was nowhere near him. Instead it fell on the bandits, right on top of them, taking most of them down.

Gwaine was on the remaining bandits before he had a chance to think, slicing them down with the same ease that he always did. Gwaine had never been one to back down from a fight, no matter how outnumbered he was, and he would’ve fought until his last breath even if that branch hadn’t done most of the work for him.

Some was different this time, though. Gwaine couldn’t shake that strange feeling inside him, like something else was _there_ beneath his skin. It wasn’t as strong as it had been- no longer pressing against his skin, fighting to get out- but it was still there. It still wasn’t painful, but the longer Gwaine could feel it, the more he wanted it _gone_. He was itching at his skin, trying desperately to fight it off, but it was no use. This feeling, whatever it was, wasn’t going anywhere.

Gwaine’s eyes were drawn back to the fallen branch, eyeing it off almost apprehensively. He was telling himself it was just a coincidence that the branch had fallen, exactly when he needed it to and right where his enemies were, but he couldn’t help this feeling that that wasn’t true at all. That somehow, just by begging for help, _he’d_ made the branch fall.

“That’s impossible,” Gwaine whispered. “There’s no way I made that branch fall. I was nowhere near it. I wasn’t touching it. It wasn’t me.”

But still, Gwaine couldn’t help that sick feeling in his stomach that told him his words were a lie. _I needed to get back to Camelot_ , he told himself. _There could be more of these bandits out there. I can think about this later_. _And it’s just a_ coincidence. _There is no way it could be anything else._

As Gwaine trudged back to Camelot, sword still in hand in case there _were_ more bandits, he grew more and more uncomfortable. That strange sensation was still right _there_ , and it was making Gwaine want to tear his skin off and rip whatever was causing the sensation right out of him. _I have to get back to Camelot safely,_ he told himself again. _I need to focus on that. I can worry about this later._ But still, as Gwaine walked, he still felt it. And he still wondered.

Hours had passed by the time Gwaine finally arrived back at Camelot. He had been well and truly lost in the forest, focused as he was on the bandits and somehow escaping with his life. Luckily, patrolling the forest as often as he did came in handy another way, and it didn’t take him too long to find the path again.

As he approached the gates to the citadel the guards raised their swords, but lowered them immediately when they saw who it was. “Sir Gwaine!” one of them exclaimed. “The king feared you were dead or kidnapped!”

“Well unfortunately for our dear King Arthur, he is going to have to put up with me for a little while longer. A _lot_ longer, if I have my way. Now where is he?”

“In the throne room, with the Queen and the knights,” the other guard replied. He made no mention of Merlin, but Gwaine knew he would be with Arthur as well; the servant was rarely away from his master’s side.

“And my men?” Gwaine asked.

The guards hesitated, and Gwaine knew the news wasn’t all good. “Most off them escaped and returned to Camelot,” the first guard finally said. “Three men died in an ambush.”

 _Damn_. “Are any of them missing?” Gwaine asked. “Or was it just me?”

“Just you, Sir Gwaine.”

“I should probably go see the king, then,” Gwaine sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He yearned to pull and itch at his skin, to try and fight that strange feeling off, but he knew he couldn’t do that in front of the guards. Gwaine was still fully clad in his armour, too, and he couldn’t even _reach_ his skin. The urge to take it all off, throw it away, and rub his skin _raw_ until he couldn’t feel that strange pressure anymore was incredibly strong. But he knew he couldn’t. He had to wait.

 _Maybe I can take a long, long bath when I’ve finished talking to Arthur_ , Gwaine thought to himself. “I’ll go see the king,” he said aloud to the guard, before heading off towards the castle.

Sure enough, when Gwaine entered the throne room he found Arthur standing at a table beside Queen Guinevere, with parchment and notes spread out on the table in front of them. The Knights of the Round Table were gathered around him, and Merlin was standing close behind him, looking over his shoulder. They all looked up when Gwaine entered the room, expressions breaking into a mixture of shock and relief when they realised who it was.

“Gwaine!” Arthur breathed, too shocked to keep his composure.  He took a step forward, but whether he wanted to pull Gwaine into a bone-crunching hug or throttle him for worrying them all, no one knew. Gwaine just stood there, feeling far more uncomfortable than he normally did, looking around at everyone. The queen had a hand resting in the small of Arthur’s back, and her face was the very picture of relief. Gwaine’s fellow knights, who were Arthur’s inner circle, were clearly very happy that he was alive. They were all clad in their armour with sword in their belts, and Gwaine wouldn’t be surprised if they had been preparing to go look for him. Merlin was just as relieved as all the rest, but there was something else in his expression… something Gwaine couldn’t quite read.

And none of them knew what Gwaine was really feeling.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, putting his ‘king face’ back on.

“We were ambushed,” Gwaine replied. “Bandits came from everywhere, and not everyone reacted in time. I managed to defeated the bandits that attacked me in the first wave, but once they were all gone, I realised my men were too. And there was no sign of them. There was no sign of _anyone_. By the time I realised I was actually surrounded, it was too late. There was no way out.” When Gwaine opened his mouth to speak again, to tell Arthur what had happened with the branch, he found he couldn’t get the words out. What _did_ he say? A tree branch miraculously broke off a tree, _right above_ an entire group of bandits, taking most of them out?

“How did you get away, then?” Arthur asked, when Gwaine remained silent. Everyone was studying him, not quite sure what was going on, and not knowing whether to be relieved or worried. “You were just one man. How did you get away, with no major wounds other than the one on your arm?”

 _My arm?_ Clutching at his arm, Gwaine realised what Arthur meant. He could feel the blood, some of it dry, some of it wet and sticky on his fingers. How had he not noticed? It had to be the adrenaline flowing through his body, and the strange feeling beneath his skin, that were fighting back the pain. But now that he wasn’t so focused on trying to get _away_ , and now that Arthur had brought attention to it, Gwaine could feel the throbbing wound. It _hurt_. “I… I didn’t notice the wound,” Gwaine admitted. “I was so focused on trying to get away, I didn’t notice.”

“Yes, but how _did_ you get away?” Arthur insisted. He wasn’t going to let this go. “You were just one man against so many.”

“I-” Gwaine opened his mouth to speak again, but he found that he could not. Whatever had happened out in the forest, whatever had saved Gwaine’s life, he just could not say it. He couldn’t put it in to words. “I guess I was lucky,” he said finally. “That, and bandits spend an incredibly long time gloating about the face that they’re going to kill you.”

“Well, somehow I am glad to see you alive, even if you _do_ drink all of my ale,” Arthur admitted. “You should go get that wound looked at by Gaius, make sure it isn’t serious.”

Gwaine nodded, before turning and leaving without a word. He didn’t know what else _to_ say. Maybe ‘oh, by the way, I felt this strange pressure come out of me right as a tree branch fell on the bandits, and I can still feel it under my skin’? That would go down _fantastically_ with Arthur.

Gwaine was so distracted as he left, he didn’t notice Merlin staring after him. The servant’s expression was incredibly concerned, his brow furrowed and a thousand thoughts flying around in his head. Without even bothering to ask Arthur if he could be excused, Merlin ran out of the room after Gwaine.

***

By the time Merlin reached the chambers he shared with Gaius, Gwaine was sitting in front of the physician, his armour and tunic removed to give Gaius a better look at his wound. Merlin couldn’t help but look at Gwaine, watching him as he tensed in response to Gaius’s ministrations, the muscles in his arms and chest completely capturing Merlin’s attention. It was like Merlin couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried. Which admittedly, he wasn’t doing at all.

It wasn’t until Gwaine looked up, realising that Merlin was standing in the doorway, that the servant finally stopped staring. “Like what you see?” Gwaine joked.

“How are you feeling?” Merlin asked, completely ignoring Gwaine’s question. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Gwaine insisted, so Merlin turned to Gaius for a second opinion.

“The worst of Gwaine’s physical injuries is the wound on his arm, which I’ve already treated,” Gaius explained. “We’ll have to look after it for a few days, though. Other than that, the only physical injuries he’s got some cuts and bruises.”

“You’re making it sound like there’s something wrong _other_ than the physical injuries,” said Merlin.

“Gwaine _does_ have an unusually fast heartbeat, and a slight fever,” Gaius said.

“What could be causing that?” Merlin asked, resolutely trying not to look at Gwaine. He was far too sorely tempted to look, and he knew that watching Gwaine without a shirt on would give away things that Merlin did not want to reveal.

“I’m not sure,” Gaius admitted. “It _could_ just be the adrenaline. I’ll need to wait and see if they go down to be sure.”

“You two are talking about me like I’m not even here,” said Gwaine, even though he wasn’t really paying attention. He wasn’t looking at Merlin or Gaius; instead he was studying his own skin, _sure_ that there was some sort of rash that would explain how itchy and uncomfortable he was. But his skin was unblemished, save for his fresh cuts and bruises, and the scars he had attained over the years. It didn’t make any sense.

“I apologise,” said Gaius. “But as long as you properly care for your wound and rest, you will be fine, Sir Gwaine.”

 _Will I?_ Gwaine asked silently, the thought breaking into his mind before he had a chance to hold it back. He had _no idea_ what was going on in his body, or what had really made that tree branch fall. And it scared him.

“Thank you, Gaius,” he said out loud, although the accompanying smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think I’ll return to my chambers, now. Get some of that rest you were talking about.” _And maybe when I wake up, this strange feeling will be gone._

“I’ll go with you,” said Merlin unusually quickly, earning a raised eyebrow from Gaius and a mess of a look from Gwaine. It was somehow confused and annoyed and happy and hopeful, all at once. “You know, just to make sure Gwaine doesn’t pass out, or something.”

“I’ll be fine, Merlin,” Gwaine said, even though he was feeling anything but. “Really. You don’t have to walk me back to my chambers. I _rescue_ the damsels in distress. I’m not one myself.”

“I’d rather not take the risk, Gwaine,” Merlin insisted, strangely forceful, his gaze focused on Gwaine and completely ignoring Gaius. Gwaine could tell that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Gwaine had seen Merlin act like this before, yes, so very protective over other people, but it had _never_ been over Gwaine. It felt… _strange_.

Gwaine watched Merlin, his expression becoming one of curiosity, but the servant looked away, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “I mean, well, as much as Arthur says you annoy him sometimes, you know he’s going to blame me if you pass out on the way back to your chambers and hurt yourself,” said Merlin quickly, not meeting Gwaine’s eyes.

Gwaine let out a sigh he didn’t realise he was holding, feeling strangely disappointed by Merlin’s explanation. Of _course_ Merlin’s insistence on escorting Gwaine had to do with the king. It always did.

Returning to absentmindedly scratching at his skin, Gwaine tried to smile again, but this one was even more forced than the last. “Well, if you insist,” he said.

“It would be a good idea,” Gaius said. “Now that your body is starting to calm down following the bandit attack, it’s possible you won’t be able to maintain the strength to get back to your chambers alone, Gwaine.”

“Then maybe I should leave now before I pass out right here,” Gwaine joked, but one look from Merlin shut him up. There was a fierceness in his eyes as he stared Gwaine down, leaving the knight silent as he rose to his feet. At the same time, Gwaine was afraid of what Merlin would say when they were alone. He was afraid of what Merlin would ask.

“I’ll want to see you tomorrow to re-examine that wound, Gwaine,” Gaius said as Gwaine headed for the doorway, Merlin right by his side. “I’ll need to redress it then, as well.”

“Of course, Gaius,” said Gwaine.

Just as Gwaine had expected, Merlin started questioning him as soon as they were alone. “All right, spill it, Gwaine,” he said. “What _really_ happened in that forest?”

“I told you,” said Gwaine. “I got lucky, and bandits are incredibly stupid.”

“I _know_ they’re stupid,” said Merlin. “The number of times I’ve managed to escape from them, when I’m alone and with Arthur, even though I’m not armed…” Merlin trailed off then, shaking his head slightly, before focusing on Gwaine again. “But even so, that doesn’t explain how you were completely surrounded by bandits, with no support from other knights and absolutely zero chance of escape, and yet you’re here and all the bandits are dead.”

Gwaine sighed, trying to will that feeling right beneath his skin to just _go away_. But again, it was no use. “I don’t want to talk about it, Merlin. What happened just- happened, okay?”

“Whatever it is, Gwaine, I’m sure you don’t need to keep it hidden,” Merlin insisted, managing to keep pace with Gwaine even as the knight quickened his steps. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. And I’m your friend, Gwaine, you can tell-”

“I said _leave it_ , Merlin, alright?” Gwaine finally snapped, his voice so loud he was almost yelling. He’d never raised his voice at Merlin, _ever_ , and Merlin almost shrank away from him, his face the very picture of hurt and confusion.

“Gwaine, I-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Merlin, and I’m not going to,” said Gwaine shortly, and that was the end of that. “We’re close enough to my chambers. I can find my own way from here.” And with that Gwaine stalked away from Merlin, leaving Merlin standing alone in the corridor staring after him.

***

Sleep did not come easy for Gwaine, that night. He lay awake for hours, staring up at the ceiling, playing his conversation with Merlin over and over in his mind. He kept seeing Merlin’s face, mouth open in shock and eyes wide with worry and hurt, as Gwaine had snapped at him. And all he had done was _worry about Gwaine…_ What kind of person was Gwaine if he had snapped at his best friend, at times his only friend, when his only crime was making sure Gwaine was alright?

 _A horrible person, that’s what kind_ , Gwaine answered himself. And he had been rewarded by the crystal clear image of Merlin’s face, and that horrible feeling beneath his skin that still would not fade.

Eventually, though, Gwaine did fall asleep, but it was not a restful sleep. He tossed and turned all night, unknowingly kicking off his sheets as he did, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. And he dreamed. He dreamt of running through the forest, that feeling coursing beneath his skin, growing stronger and stronger with every step he took. And then there were images swimming in front of him, of golden eyes flashing and enemies screaming and running for their lives, not all of them escaping…

And _magic_. Where the magic was coming from, Gwaine couldn’t tell. But he could feel it in the air around him, crackling and hot, as if it were alive. What was strange to Gwaine was how _soothing_ the magic felt, how comforting it was, how it seemed to tell him that he was safe and it was his enemies who would perish. Gwaine looked around for the source of the magic, but he was alone. Nothing else was there except for the bodies of his enemies and the feeling beneath his skin. That, and the unwavering belief that he was stronger than ever, and nothing would be able to attack him again.

Gwaine finally jerked awake, breathing heavily and feeling hot and cold all at once. His heart was beating so hard he thought it would break right out of his chest, and his skin felt like it was on fire, like that strange feeling had completely enveloped him. Like it was taking him over, and eventually he wouldn’t be able to control it anymore.

Gwaine could see nothing in the darkness, except for those golden eyes from his dream still swimming in front of his face. He knew what those golden eyes meant. Magic. Gwaine couldn’t recognise those eyes with their golden colour, but they looked so _familiar_ … he’d definitely seen them somewhere before.

The mystery of whose eyes those were plagued Gwaine for the rest of the night. He knew he wouldn’t have slept anyway, fearing those _nightmares_ again, but he was bleary-eyed and exhausted by the time he needed to get up and prepare for the next day. He struggled to his feet, rubbing his eyes at the same time, trying desperately to get those images out of his head. Everything he did was automatic, without thinking, and he wasn't even aware of doing most of it.

After he'd eaten, Gwaine headed into the castle, intending to go slice up a training dummy before training itself to try and focus his mind on something other than golden eyes and strange feelings beneath his skin... and magic. He just couldn't forget that magic.

Gwaine was so distracted, so plagued by his dreams and strange thoughts, he didn't realise Merlin was coming towards him until he'd run right into the manservant.

"Oh," Gwaine said, startled, as the armour Merlin had been holding clattered to the floor. "Didn't mean to do that, mate. I was just... I didn't sleep well. Sorry."

"It's fine, Gwaine," Merlin insisted, not even bothering to pick up the armour that was surely Arthur's. "I haven't even started cleaning that lot yet. I was meant to do it yesterday, but after your patrol going missing..."

"Your mind was elsewhere," Gwaine finished. "I'm sure even the princess would understand that." Gwaine hesitated, not really sure what else to say. It wasn't the first time Gwaine had been rendered speechless by Merlin, and he was almost certain that it wouldn't be the last. Although, normally it was for a completely different reason. "Listen, mate, I'm... I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I was just… stressed out. Worried that I wasn’t going to survive. Confused.”

“Confused?” Merlin repeated, sounding so himself. “Why would you be confused? It was just bandits that attacked you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but… it wasn’t that,” Gwaine said, cursing himself for his slip of the tongue. It may have been Merlin he was talking to, his _friend_ , the person he trusted and cared for above all else… but he just couldn’t tell him. Something was stopping him, holding him back. He needed to figure out himself what was going on, whether it was something he needed to be _afraid_ of, before he told anybody else. “Everything happened so fast, Merlin. I can’t even really remember it all, and whatever happened, I’m sure I imagined it. Really.”

“Gwaine…”

“Please, Merlin. I just need to deal with this on my own.”

“I’m worried about you, Gwaine,” Merlin insisted, half reaching out with one hand, his expression twisted with concern and something that Gwaine couldn’t quite read or place. Whatever it was, it made Gwaine’s heart hurt, made him feel like something was _squeezing_ it, that Merlin was worried and it was _his fault._ But still, he just- he couldn’t say.

“I can’t, Merlin,” Gwaine said, finally. “You have to understand. I just _can’t_ tell you.”

“I do, Gwaine,” Merlin replied. “More than you could ever know.” Now it was Gwaine who studied Merlin with confusion, trying so desperately to read Merlin’s expression, wondering exactly what he meant. As close and he and Merlin were, even though Gwaine knew that Merlin really did _care_ about him, Gwaine had to admit he didn’t know everything there was to know about the servant.

 _It seems that I’m not the only one keeping a secret, then_ , Gwaine thought to himself, even as he started scratching at his arms again. That feeling had started building under his skin again, almost as strong as the first time, as if in response to Merlin standing so close. But it wasn’t _uncomfortable_ this time. It was almost like his body was singing, like whatever was causing the feeling inside him wanted to reach out and join with Merlin. Gwaine just stood there, staring at Merlin, trying to control his breathing. He knew he had to get away. He was afraid if he didn’t, the feeling would burst out of him again in the forest, and he’d lose control. He was afraid he’d hurt Merlin.

But at the same time, he desperately didn’t want to leave.

“Merlin, I just need some time to think. And maybe have a few drinks, as well, that might help me,” Gwaine tried to joke, but the accompanying smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m fine, I promise you. Now, shouldn’t you clean Arthur’s armour, before the princess yells at both of us? Or throws us in the stocks?”

“Oh, right.” Merlin grimaced, hastily picking up the pieces of armour he’d dropped all over the floor. Gwaine could tell the stocks weren’t exactly a _happy_ memory for Merlin. “I got thrown into the stocks a great number of times in the year I first started working for Arthur,” Merlin explained. “Including right after we met. I’ll, uh, go clean this then.” Merlin turned to walk away, but turned back after taking only a few steps down the corridor. “Gwaine,” Merlin said softly, almost tenderly. “You know you can come to me no matter what, right? I really _do_ care about you.”

“I know,” said Gwaine, nodding. Merlin stood still, watching Gwaine for a moment, studying him intently, before turning and finally walking away. Gwaine was left standing there, staring after the king’s servant, feeling even more guilty than he had before.

 

 

Gwaine had never been more distracted at training than he was that day. He had never copped as many hits from blunt swords, and had never ended up on his back on the field as many times. After what was at _least_ the tenth time he had been knocked off his feet, Gwaine lay there for several moments, breathing heavily, looking up at the sky above him. His skin was thrumming, but Gwaine still felt in control- like he was _safe_ , like there was nothing he needed protecting from.

Well, at least he did until he realised that Arthur was standing above him. “Have you lost it, Gwaine?” Arthur asked, holding out his hand. Gwaine took it gratefully, letting Arthur help him to his feet. “Normally even _you_ are better than this.”

“Normally I’m one of _the_ best, and you know it,” Gwaine retorted good-naturedly, picking up his sword once more. “I guess I should’ve stayed in bed. Or maybe the tavern…”

“Gaius didn’t tell you to rest, did he?” said Arthur, watching Gwaine accusingly, his sword pointing towards Gwaine as if he meant to attack him himself.

“He said ‘get enough rest’,” said Gwaine. “He never actually told me not to train.”

Arthur sighed. “Gwaine…”

“ _You_ would’ve trained anyway,” Gwaine pointed out. He placed the hand that wasn’t holding his sword on his arm, pressing down, trying to push the sensation back under his skin. He could feel it building, getting stronger the longer he stood there, almost as if it wanted to prove to Arthur that he didn’t need to rest and he was strong enough to train.

“I am the king, and the first knight of Camelot,” Arthur pointed out. “I have to train, no matter what the circumstances. _You_ , on the other hand, are no use to me injured. Go and see Gaius. You stay _here_ , _Mer_ lin,” Arthur added, and it was then Gwaine realised that the manservant had made to follow him, concern written all over his face. Merlin turned to argue with Arthur, saying that Arthur didn’t _need_ him right then and he would be more helpful somewhere else (like helping Gaius), and Gwaine took that moment to sneak away.

He didn’t go to Gaius, though. Instead, Gwaine _ran_ , away from the citadel and through the lower town, out the city gates and into the forest. It was getting too strong. Far, _far_ too strong, and he couldn’t control it anymore. It was almost like there was a fire consuming him inside, threatening to push its way out and destroy everything in its path if he wasn’t careful.

When Gwaine reached the forest, when he was certain he was alone, he screamed. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. And when he screamed, it burst out of him again, just like it had in the forest with the bandits. He could hear the rushing in his ears and feel the _pushing_ against his skin, and then he heard the crack.

Luckily, the tree that fell over was nowhere near Gwaine, or he was sure he would have perished. Instead he just stood there, staring, somehow feeling more powerful than he ever had in his life. And again, like in his dream, he could see golden eyes swimming in front of him, almost like they were really there. Except this time, he knew exactly who the eyes belonged to, and knew exactly what those eyes meant. They were his own.

And he had _magic_.

“I have magic,” Gwaine said aloud, scarcely able to believe it. He had no idea what to do. On the one hand, he had grown up in a place where magic was not banned in the slightest. He had absolutely no problem with magic (except, of course, when somebody was trying to use it to hurt somebody he cared about). But on the other hand, he was a sworn knight of Camelot, and magic was prohibited in all its forms. And he had _no idea how to control it._

Just as Gwaine sunk to his knees on the forest floor, he heard a noise, almost as if someone had stood on a branch and snapped it. He froze, that feeling (the _magic_ ) building inside of him again. "Who's there?" he called out, absolutely kicking himself that he had left his sword behind in Camelot.

"It's just me, Gwaine," Merlin called out, stepping out of the trees. "It's just Merlin."

"Merlin," Gwaine breathed in relief. Instead of the pressure, he could feel the magic singing now, just like it had when he'd literally run into Merlin the day before. It was reacting to him, somehow. Like it was sensing exactly how Gwaine felt.

 _I am in way too deep,_ Gwaine thought to himself. Out loud, he said, "What are you doing here, Merlin? How did you get away from Camelot?"

"I told Arthur I had to gather herbs for Gaius, and then pretended to explain what they were. Whenever I start talking about working as a physician, Arthur just tells me to shut up and get on with what Gaius wants me to do. Never even checks if I'm telling the truth or making stuff up. Which I was this time, because I'm out here to see you. Now can you _please_ tell me what's wrong."

Gwaine sighed. He knew, the moment he saw Merlin step out of the trees, that he was going to tell Merlin. He had to. He could never lie to Merlin- not now, not ever.

He loved him far too much for that.

"Can you at least come sit over here, please?" Gwaine asked, trying and failing to flash Merlin his customary grin. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and was suddenly very glad that he was already on the ground, because he didn't think his legs would be able to hold him up anymore. "I can't help but feel like you're going to attack me or something."

"Why would I do that?" Merlin asked, somehow sounding even more concerned than he had before. "I would never do anything like that to you, Gwaine." He knelt down beside Gwaine, relaxing his posture, trying very hard to calm Gwaine down. “Please Gwaine, just tell me what’s going on, before I have to try and find out by myself. I’m a lot better at that than you’d think.”

“I’ll tell you, Merlin. Just… let me gather my thoughts, okay?” Gwaine looked away from Merlin, closing his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. His _magic_ was still just within him, but instead of fighting to break free, it was still calm, still singing, still content.

And it was all because of Merlin.

Maybe he _could_ trust him with this after all.

“When I was attacked by the bandits, my men and I managed to fight the first wave off,” Gwaine finally began. “But then I found myself alone, and more bandits showed up… I was _certain_ I was done for.” Gwaine could tell that Merlin wanted to say something, but he ploughed on, lest he lose all courage. “But I could _feel_ something in me, this feeling… and the next thing I knew, it felt like all this energy was coming out of me, and a tree branch fell right on the bandits, killing most of them.”

Gwaine didn’t know how he had expected Merlin to react: shock, maybe, or even more confusion. He hadn’t expected to see understanding, and was he _swore_ was guilt written all over Merlin’s face. “Merlin?” he said, and even he was surprised how scared he sounded.

“You have magic,” Merlin said, and Gwaine could hear that strange guilt in his voice again. Gwaine just couldn’t understand it. What reason would _Merlin_ of all people have to be guilty? “Gwaine? Say something, please,” Merlin added, and Gwaine realised he’d been silent for too long, staring at his hands.

“I’m scared, Merlin,” Gwaine admitted. He couldn’t remember _ever_ admitting that to someone before. “I don’t know how to control this- I'm afraid it's just going to _burst_ out of me and I won't be able to stop it from hurting someone. If Arthur finds out, no matter who I am, he could have me imprisoned or exiled or killed. Being one of his knights could make this so much worse if he _does_ find out. And I’m afraid…” Gwaine’s voice caught in his throat. “I’m afraid the magic is going to corrupt me. I’m afraid it’s going to turn my soul black and dark and make me evil, like it did Morgana.”

“Gwaine…” Gwaine felt something squeeze his hand, and looked over to realise that Merlin was _holding it_. It felt nice, he registered dimly, even through his fear. Comforting, warm… natural. “Magic doesn’t turn people evil. The darkness was already in Morgana’s heart; she was already set against Uther before she had any idea of her powers.” And I-” There it was, that mysterious _guilt_ that Merlin had. “And I _know_ , without a doubt, that magic doesn’t turn you evil. Gaius has it. My father had it.

“And so do I.”

Gwaine looked up then, stunned, _sure_ that Merlin was lying, but he could see the truth written all over the man’s face. Merlin muttered something, in a language that Gwaine didn’t understand, and his eyes flashed gold. The same gold as Gwaine’s dreams, the same gold he knew his own eyes turned when the tree branch snapped and fell. A flame danced in Merlin’s palm, not burning him at all. Gwaine stared at it, mesmerised, for several long moments, before Merlin closed his hand and snuffed it out. “How… how long?” Gwaine finally asked.

“I was born with it,” Merlin admitted. “I didn’t _want_ to keep this secret, Gwaine, but I… I’ve been afraid too, for so long, that it’s so hard to push past. I can’t risk losing my life, or being sent away from Camelot. Not when I _need_ to protect Arthur, no matter what.”

Gwaine had to admit, it _hurt_. It hurt knowing that Merlin had kept this secret from Gwaine, as long as they’d known each other. It _hurt_ that Merlin felt he couldn’t trust Gwaine with this, even though Gwaine would trust Merlin with his very life.

His _life_. Wasn’t that exactly what Merlin was doing now? In telling Gwaine his secret, wasn’t he trusting Gwaine not to go to Arthur, to tell him about Merlin, to condemn him to the flames? Sure, Merlin could bring Gwaine down with him, but that didn’t mean Merlin wouldn’t lose his own life. And all of Gwaine’s own fears- that he would die, that magic would corrupt his soul, that one day he might lose control of the magic- surely Merlin had felt those at least once upon a time?

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt that you didn’t tell me,” Gwaine admitted, but then he smiled. “I can… I can understand though, why you didn’t. I think.” He squeezed the hand Merlin held, and Merlin smiled back at him. “It helps me, kind of, that I’m not alone. But it doesn’t mean I’m not afraid.”

“I can teach you, Gwaine,” Merlin promised. “I can teach you how to control it, how to bend it to your will. And how to keep it secret. There are times when I’ve used it in front of Arthur, in front of all of you, and you haven’t known, or noticed. Every time we’ve had a ‘lucky accident’, it hasn’t been an accident.”

“It’s always been you,” Gwaine realised.

“Also, I can tell you one thing. Magic is neither good nor bad. It’s a weapon, the same as a sword. And honestly, if I meant to kill Arthur and take his kingdom, don’t you reckon I would’ve done it long ago? I have been by his side, almost since I arrived in Camelot. I’ve had my chances, if I wanted to take them.”

“Okay, I get it,” Gwaine laughed, feeling more relieved than he ever had in his life. Maybe he could do this, if he wasn’t alone. If he had _Merlin_. “Magic isn’t going to turn me evil, if _you_ are anything to go by. There is one thing that’s bugging me, though. Why are you telling me now? You didn’t _have_ to, you know.”

“Yes, I did,” said Merlin.  “I didn’t tell Morgana, and we lost her. But I- I can’t lose _you_. I just can’t.” Gwaine watched Merlin, saw him bite his lips as if unsure about something, but he still was not prepared for what happened next. Merlin drew closer, his body so close to Gwaine’s it was like he could feel the heat coming off of him. Merlin gripped Gwaine hand even tighter, resting the other on his thigh, and he kissed him.

Gwaine had dreamed of this moment, he had to admit. But still, his dreams were nothing like reality. Merlin’s kiss was sloppy and rough, and he was clearly out of practice. It was exactly what Gwaine wanted and need, right then and for so, so long. And he realised exactly what Merlin had meant, when he said he couldn’t lose Gwaine. He cared about Gwaine, perhaps even _loved_ him, maybe just as much as Gwaine loved Merlin.

When Merlin pulled away, he was smiling. “I want to show you something.” This time, Merlin didn’t need words. His eyes flashed gold again, and Gwaine had to let out an exclamation of wonder and delight at what was happening. Bright lights and butterflies dancing around him, flowers blooming in the grass… and all of it was orchestrated by Merlin. “Magic can be beautiful, you know.”

“As beautiful as you,” said Gwaine. When Merlin looked stunned, Gwaine added, “Come on, you had to have known that was coming. I- I do care about you Merlin, more than I even thought was possible. I might even love you.”

“ _Might_?” Merlin repeated, laughing.

“Give it a little while,” said Gwaine. “I think that might change.” Merlin laughed again, and it might have been the most glorious sound Gwaine had ever heard. He toyed with Merlin’s neckerchief, and when Merlin didn’t object, Gwaine untied it and tossed it away. Merlin’s tunic was next, and as Gwaine’s hands moved deftly up his body he shivered, but in delight and pleasure.

“Gwaine…” he whispered, his voice husky with lust. “I want- I need you.”

“Your wish is my command, Merlin.”

The next little while passed in a haze of tangled, sweaty limbs and waves of pleasure. Gwaine had no idea how much time had passed- all he knew was that he _had_ Merlin, and Merlin had him, and they were both _happy_. Merlin was needy, and desperate, as was Gwaine, and neither of them lasted very long, but it didn’t matter. _They_ did.

As Gwaine lay there, tangled up in Merlin and their discarded clothes, he realised the little section of the forest they were in had… _grown_. It was almost overpopulated with flowers and plants, far, far more than there had been before. “Um, Merlin?” Gwaine said, gesturing around.

"Wha- _oh._ That's never happened before, I swear."

"Maybe it was both of us?" Gwaine suggested. "The combination of our magic."

"I like you saying that," Merlin admitted. " _Our_ magic."

" _Good._ I'll say it more often. Now maybe we should head back, before Arthur comes looking for us."

They dawdled on their way back to Camelot, walking slowly, bumping into each other, Gwaine whispering lewd comments into Merlin's ear. Their dawdling was probably their undoing, and was the reason the bandits set upon them.

 _Why on earth did I leave my sword behind?_ Gwaine cursed. He couldn't protect-

But Merlin's eyes were flowing gold, and he had his hands out, throwing the bandits backwards through the air so they lay there, motionless on the ground.

 _Help him!_ Gwaine cried in his mind. _Help!_ Finally, _finally,_ he got the magic to do what he wanted, and a branch fell on the remaining bandits with an almighty _thump._ "It seems that's all I can do," Gwaine joked, feeling more relieved than anything else. He'd gotten the magic to do what he wanted. More importantly, he hadn't hurt Merlin with it. He'd done _good._

Merlin smirked, bumping into Gwaine again. "Told you so. _Told_ you that you can control it. That it can be used for good. Magic is special- as special as you. And Gwaine? I never doubted you for a second." With that Merlin headed back towards Camelot, Gwaine very close behind.


End file.
